Saturday, 29 November 2014


HAVEN

My astral body tiptoed through
the gradual crescendo 
of silence, as you cast your first
ever circle of happiness.
I smelled the dread your beatific,
practiced smile concealed.

Here I stood, frozen in time. Your
blood seeded my cells
with life, my soul, with death, you
womb of shadows, of
penumbral mystery. What do these
tears portend, mother?

Why fear the grim dark you birthed?
Does it not conceal in
its ample, layered gathers the very 
carnage you wrought?
Does this revenant's muteness not 
dilate your courage?

And now you would cast off these
robes you wove and
run into the embrace of the one who
denied you so cruelly.
The Grim Reaper has fled, your scent
repels him, it seems.

Reprisals rain down, the deluge beats
on your mortal bones.
Whom would you bait now? Your pleas
puncture the silence.
Would you dare drive a stake through
its beating heart, while
I fashion a soul from scars, tears and
an abiding death wish?

An inert shape floats upon a bloodless
sea, the movement of
its pale waters lending it an appearance
of life. The final chapter 
looms large, our combined fates locked
into its time and space.


© 2014 Lily's Verse
Lilium Candidum

Image: LITTLE SPEEDWELL'S DARLING BLUE
Source: www.liveinternet.ru
Artist: John Everett Millais

Wednesday, 26 November 2014

FOR MY GODSON

Thro' tend'rest greenness a
jasmine bud peeked,
its halo Heaven's own Light
held,
cherub's cry o'er my soul's
wasteland sounded
my leaden heart to love
compelled.

Bliss unbounded of sweet
celestial gift,
hope enkindled in dark's
abode
torment of ceaseless,
fearsome dreams banished,
visions of fairy skies
bestowed.

Your infant gurgle my sad
spirit healed,
childish solacing, my fears
calmed,
in the dawnlike glow of your
smile I basked,
your laughter effused God's
own balm.

For halcyon days shall I be
e'er grateful,
for your bequest of this
new life,
you father me, mother me,
precious one,
my path you ease thro'
every strife.

This is my wish for you and
every child,
may courage and truth guide
your way,
may your joys be great, your
misfortunes, mild,
pure love in your hearts
bide each day.

© 2014 Lily's Verse
Lilium Candidum

Image: webneel.com

Monday, 24 November 2014


SHADOWS

You believe you hold court,
mother, awash in
the icy sparkle of ancient,
faceted, polished coal,
your sustenance of choice.

Man-made incandescence
luxuriates on
every surface, colludes with
the colloids on your
skin to fulfil the avaricious 
alchemist's promises.

Masses of blush roses gasp
in the glowing void that
carries you, billow over the
empty palaver
you surround yourself with,
thirsty for the
restoring light and air you
tore them from.

Would that they could tint
your finely moulded
lifeless cheeks! Would that
their scent could
blunt your bitter blade!

No, it is their shapes and girths
you mark, perusing the outline
of each petal with a
magnifying glass.

The imperfect now lie in an old
basket, destined 
for the compost heap.

I believe I shall take the faded,
the blemished, into my 
shadows, lend them 
colour, depth and song.


© 2014 Lily's Verse
Lilium Candidum

Image: VANITY

Source: www.artscroll.ru
Artist: Frank cadogan Cowper

Saturday, 22 November 2014


SOUL

Drops of Sun perish in the grey,
raddled air, their sallow
wraiths mottle the wind's
keening.

Here, rainbows come to die.

Faerie wings merge into picture
frames of mirrored blue
the darkened stream still holds.

Here, I teach my eyes to lie.

Snares of scraggy branches
trap moonbeams,
vivifying substrates disdaining
the very ground that
sustains them.

This soulscape prepares for
my last oblation
to this earthly life, a soothing
absence
spread over infinity.

Dark strands snake through
the mocking haze.
These fashion silken ropes, 
turbid planes, my bier. 

My quest for Light I entombed 
in bygone spaces.

It now blithely sails through a 
faraway radiance these 
perfidious eyes shall never see.

© 2014 Lily's Verse
Lilium Candidum

Image: weheartit.com

Thursday, 20 November 2014


SWAN 

Bird of myth, fidelity incarnate,
paragon of love and grace,
Nephele's paeans my silver-white carved,
moonglow, my beguiling face.

Zephyrus' flight my plumage fashioned,
lilies' breath my curving neck,
my bill Helios' rays gold tinted,
eyes starlit onyx bedecked.

Eternal beloved of poets, scribes,
my heart Apollo's own sparked,
luminous emblems of harmony's light,
his birth my kin joyful marked.

The gods' winged bards o'er fair Leto's bed sang,
 golden notes 'pon her child show'red,
seven rings in flight o'er the city traced,
babe in reverence embow'red.

'Pon their wing he from Delos ascended,
'cross Elysian Fields traversed,
'pon Eridanos' banks they gathered,
the land in his song immersed.

Of celestial springs my forebears drank deep,
to purest beauty aspired,
Aphrodite's chariot thro' Heaven drew,
the Muses to praise inspired.

By and by Zeus his feathered choristers
to mortals' abode bequeathed,
for mankind from his darkness to restore
with fragrance his blossoms wreathed.

Alas, as to Earth's realm they descended,
gift of song were they denied,
mute in life, these fair harbingers of Spring,
soul's lays would chant as they died.

No mortal this bittersweet air shall hear
of Radiance no man descries,
sole infant hearts and the pure of spirit
this melody would agnise.

Quietus tho' our last cadences lament,
blissful undersong these threads,
the repining stream with sorrow brims
as Nature copious tears sheds.

Erelong shall death my inmost light release,
for my threnody to sing,
o'er rippling waters thro' my ebbing breath
and fading strength shall it ring.

In Heaven's gardens shall I e'er more dwell,
'pon limpid lakes blithesome float,
Apollo his lyre to my voice shall tune,
as rainbows chime in my throat.

© 2014 Lily's Verse
Lilium Candidum



Image: pics4twitts.wordpress.com

Tuesday, 18 November 2014


THE AOS SÍ

I

Nature's guardians, tutelary spirits,
untruths and cunning they forswear,
vanquished children of the Goddess Danu
these isles with man, bird and beast share.

Invading mortal sons of Míl Espáine
the good folk in battle subdued,
thence in woods, caves and mountains they linger,
'neath great mounds their peoples seclude.

Magical immortals to Nature bound
jealous their sunken abodes guard,
sequestered beings into legend passed, 
scriveners' tales their repute marred.

No taller than an earthly child they stand,
no webbed feet have, nor gift of flight,
'pon thrushes they ride, ragwort stems bestride,
minuscule whirlwinds we oft sight.

No deceivers, they, nor snaggers, nor sprites,
e'er nimble, silent and discreet, 
to the pure of heart their forms they reveal,
sole those menace, who folks mistreat.

The kind and penitent would they e'er aid,
the feeling no reprisals fear,
woe betide humans who their peace disturb,
as rascals who at wee folk sneer.

For such would they blight, their cattle and crops,
their bairns and kin spirit away,
'pon trespassers vicious revenge exact,
'pon all who to their ring forts stray.

Misfortune and disease farmers shall plague,
who their beloved whitethorns fell,
poison darts at horses and sheep they shoot,
their wells and gardens baleful spell.

II

Music of birdsong, of laughing waters
'pon gilded harps they artful play,
at twilight revels in circles cavort,
till dawn to mellow chanting sway.

Mystical melodies mortals enchant,
bewitched souls to the barrows lure,
these from ceaseless frolicking waste away,
suchlike must we from harm secure.

Thro' twilit hours 'pon the banks of Loch Gur
the Otherworld's gates open wide,
fulgent paths to eternal Summer lead,
where the faerie monarchs abide.

There, as a bairn one blessed Ostara
wondrous loveliness I beheld,
as loch and trees in the gloaming sparkled,
my heart with astonished hope swelled.

For tales had I heard of the Faerie Queen,
her gilded doves and golden steed,
o'er the banks a vision ariding came
Spring's advent thro' the land decreed.

At Beltane, Midsummer's Eve and Samhain,
'pon these sacred days of each year,
faerie mounts 'cross fields and meadows they ride,
their paths to cross villagers fear.

With plentiful poteen, first milk and fruit
these sublime beings we appease,
thro' gifts and deeds our gratitude evince,
for words the fair folk do not please.

III

Tho' benevolent, e'er to peace disposed,
to gentle mischief they incline,
daisies to grass tether, the mare's mane braid,
sleeping bairns' locks nightly entwine.

Their corn they kibble when the village sleeps,
into the mill steal after dark,
the miller they unsparing recompense,
his silent consent grateful mark.

'Tis said they men bemuse, in riddles speak,
the trustful with banter waylay,
will o' the wisps such from safe paths distract,
befogg'd travellers lead astray.

In days of yore, a strapping passerby
faerie maids at the brook espied,
'pon a rock sat, for their bathing to view,
our forebears' warnings he defied.

With strident applause he the beauties cheered,
brazen grinned, as their laughter stilled,
all at once the faerie maidens vanished,
a gnawing fear this youth's heart chilled.

Out of the shadows a bent crone emerged,
with deepest loathing her lips pursed,
whispering, a malediction uttered,
this foolish youth with blindness cursed.

Charms to protect we 'pon our persons bear,
for their wrath and malice we dread,
cold iron, St. John's wort, four-leaf clovers
as rowan leaves, berries, and bread.

Lore of changeling souls, of shape shifters tells,
such human form and guise assume,
'mong mortals live as boon or affliction,
erelong their faerie life resume.

And so, to this would I the wise exhort,
kindness accord to all you greet,
your victuals with strangers ungrudging share,
for these might be wee folk you meet.

© 2014 Lily's Verse
Lilium Candidum

Image: RIDERS OF THE SIDHE
Source: territa.ru
Artist: John Duncan

Sunday, 16 November 2014

SYLPH


My æther body 
rides 
with the birds
through
your airy domain.
In the distance
you float on
waves of
lilac wafting
through
Spring's tresses.

The welkin showers
its sparkling beads
upon you,
fills your
thirsting orbs 
to overflowing;
crystal cyan
you scatter in
your 
silver wake. 

The roses smile
as you
caress their cheeks.
Honey bees
twirl to your
wispy tunes. 
I strain
to discern
your feathery notes
overlaying their
gentle hum.

Would you sing to
one who
yearns for
your wisdom,
to one who
lives
between waking
and dreaming?

The Muses' epistles
you bear upon
your wings,
Earth bestud
with their
glory.
Through you
the wind
speaks.
And man
spurns the
very
elixir his
soul craves.



© 2014 Lily's Verse
Lilium Candidum

Image: www.pinterest.com

Friday, 14 November 2014


WINDOW

Another world, another time,
beyond the bounds of
these frames of light, a topaz
aura softens swathes
of spangled indigo; wisteria,
Spring gentians, soft 
exhale into the luminous ether.

Wayward purple shreds dance
upon the sinuous
breeze; spent, they dismount
their airy steeds, 
sink onto dusty sills, where this 
earthly journey ends. 
Betimes must they submit 
to thatness, in love
embalmed tranquil repose.

The sward beckons, wind chimes
meld with mellow choral 
Evensong, along waning spirals 
petals descend, the 
favoured into nodding roses' 
hearts, in one last dawn to 
glory, others, into eternal sleep.

And I, an execration, reach for the
refulgence that roofs
the land of the living. I, a grim
crisis apparition from a dark
corner of the land, long for a light
just out of my reach.
With greyness I content myself,
with dappled shadows.

My brooding presence you banish
to the dark, but the
window unfailing finds me, a space
foretokening Light.
Through it I see winds collide and
tomorrow's stars
strewn upon the grass. Earth's song
beats in my blood.

And I shall dream of pale wisteria
beams pirouetting across
my window sill with abandon, joyfully
rehearsing my every step,
while you invoke the Dark Lord and
compose my epitaph. 
I shall dance beneath palest violet.

© 2014 Lily's Verse
Lilium Candidum

Image: WISTERIA IN PROVENCE
Source: fineartamerica.com
Artist: Jeanne Smith